Welcome to my first blog - an account of personal observations and reflections on an array of subjects of interest, ranging from books, drama, films, Chinese opera, performing arts, culture, history, travelling and the latest developments in this Asia's world city and the global village at large.

Thursday, 25 April 2013

Thank God that the powerful earthquake at 7.0 on Richter scale that hit Ya'an of Sichuan province last Saturday, 20 April, was less devastating than what Wenchuan experienced five years ago. To date almost 200 people were killed, leaving some 11,000 injured and hundreds of thousands homeless.

While the toll is by all means too much to take, it is still relieving to see the damage of life and property seemed less deadly than the earthquake in 2008.

What seems more nauseating though is that many people in Hong Kong, some of my media friends included, are now asking people not to donate to help the victims. If you want to donate, they said, make sure you don't give to the corrupt officials but reputable and trustworthy charitable organisations. A few others advocate donation of relief supplies rather than cash to minimise the opportunity of embezzlement.

Many, though not all, officials of communist China are notoriously corrupt. This has been the case for at least thirty, if not more, years since the opening-up reforms. Vested interests are so inextricable with the existing political and economic structures that despite repeated calls from the paramount leaders to stay clean, corruption has seemingly become an inevitable parasite, which is too extensive to be eradicated. But I find it incomprehensible to refuse giving a helping hand to the earthquake victims out of nothing but sheer hatred and resentment against their government.

"China is so rich that it doesn't run out of cash for disaster relief, if it wants to do something. Their officials are so corrupt that our money will most probably end up in their pockets rather than the victims. So we'd better not to give a penny." So my friends said. Similar messages smeared all over the place on my Facebook wall.

A chill ran down my spine when I came across the first message of this kind. Then anger erupted and set my heart on flames. I hate to repeat the official rhetoric of nationalism and patriotism, which is completely irrelevant. My point is utterly simple: What on earth the victims have to do with the corrupt officials? What have those who barely survived and lost their loved ones done to deserve all these heartless coldness and contemptuous scepticism?

For one thing, we are not giving everything we have to help. Any donation should mean nothing more than a token of support for those in need. For another, I feel compelled to help because, thanks to the tireless relay of information through the mass media, I happened to see someone is suffering, and I feel terribly sorry for them. Be they Chinese, my fellow countrymen and women, or those in the remote corners of Iran and many other parts of the world.

How many of you ever noticed that an earthquake also hit the borders of Iran and Pakistan after the Boston blasts? Why so many of you sympathise with the Japanese earthquake victims two years ago, as if someone in your family were killed, as well as those in the Boston but no one else? Does it mean sympathy is conditional and selective?

Our forefathers used to have cool heads and made a clear distinction between our nationality and identification with the regime. While they fled their homeland decades ago seeking a freer, better life here at the southern tip of the mainland, few of them surrendered their Chinese nationality. Clearly, time has now changed. Hatred and resentment has taken sense and sensibility away from people's brains and put in their place indifference, heartlessness and a resolution to detach from one's roots; the same mistake the Chinese communists, among others, had repeatedly committed throughout their rule.

Unfortunately, now it seems the Chinese communists have become a convenient excuse for our apathy, contempt, hatred, mistrust, scepticism and whatever cruel and silly things we do, including denying our belonging to the Chinese nation. Few seem to realise that by denying our Chinese nationality, we are losing ground to exerting a meaningful impact on the Chinese communists if we believe the best way to change China is to change them. Any violent transformation or revolution would be unimaginable at least for the time being. And I bet too many people who can't wait to see the communists topple have no clue what that really means.

Having said that, whether or not the Hong Kong government under Chun-ying Leung should donate HK$100 million to the provincial government of Sichuan is debatable. The amount is, of course, subject to further contemplation because it is taxpayers' money. An alternative, perhaps even more effective, form of help may be sending teams of professional rescuers, doctors, psychologists and other relief workers to offer counselling, medical and disaster relief services that will facilitate a speedy recovery of both physical and mental health among the victims. These should also be sufficient to address the concerns of those who are worried about the whereabouts of our donations. Although, knowing the Chinese communists, whether volunteer teams would be allowed access to the earthquake-hit areas remains a question, it should not become a convenient excuse for us to sit comfortably at home with folded arms and complain yet again about the communist regime. All victims need is help and support, not lip service.

Wednesday, 17 April 2013

Thanks to the uncontrollable proliferation of mobile communications and online social networking, human life is no longer what it used to be. How we lived in the last decade just feels like it happened half a century ago. There are plenty of scholarly studies on the social, psychological and behavioural impact of mobile and online communications, but users hardly give a damn. Bringing one's mobile gadget and staying connected to the internet is almost a matter of life and death for modern urban dwellers. People nowadays tend to feel more uneasy forgetting their mobile phone than their purse. Perhaps some of you feel the same too.

Of course I am no exception. Ever since the popularisation of Facebook and WhatsApp, I am so used to communicating on these channels that I almost forgot what it feels like chattering with a friend over the phone. Email is almost restricted to work purposes. The telephone, be it at home or in the office, has almost stopped ringing as if it had gone dumb.

This is why I felt, and still do, so happy and surprised receiving a call the other day from someone with whom I only befriended a couple of months ago.

It was not a request for any help. It was not a call on any purpose or excuse. It was a genuine call of love and care, because she had seen the picture of my bandaged knee on Facebook and felt compelled to check out how I was doing. It was also a much-awaited reminder of the power of direct, interpersonal expressions of love, care, friendship and other forms of affection.

Making a big fuss of trivial episodes like this may sound a bit silly. But the inclination to hold my composure is hopelessly fragile. Not to mention that in global metropolises like Hong Kong we are running short, rather than having an excessive dose, of explicit care and concern for people who are truly important to us.

Thursday, 11 April 2013

Former British prime minister Margaret Thatcher passed away on Monday, 8 April, at the age of 87.

To the people of Hong Kong, Mrs Thatcher was probably the best known British prime minister in history, primarily for her role in the Sino-British talks that determined the political fate of Hong Kong after 30 June 1997, when the 99-year lease of the New Territories under the Second Convention of Peking (aka The Convention for the Extension of Hong Kong Territory) expired.

To be honest, I didn't, and still don't, feel too strongly hearing the news. Given her age and ailing health, it was somewhat expected. The question is not whether it would happen, but when.

Having read the local press and online coverage of her passing, however, I was surprised to realise how little the people of Hong Kong seem to know about her policies and legacies. The news coverage was incredibly short, and the so-called analysis was little more than a Chinese translation of foreign news syndicates. Comments were sought from various local politicians and scholars as a matter of routine, but those were mostly personal views that didn't shed much light on how Mrs Thatcher's policies and their impact should be assessed and understood.

Mrs Thatcher was the first British prime minister I knew. I was six when she took office in 1979. My first impression of Britain at that time was a problem-laden country thousands of miles away where the people seemed to lead a hard life. As far as I could remember, television news footage of Britain in the late 1970s and early 1980s was often flooded with striking workers and the police's violent arrests and suppressions, terrorist attacks by the Irish Republican Army that killed and wounded scores and hundreds of people at times, and a war fought over some remote lands called the Falklands. I felt sorry for the people, who seemed to live under tremendous pressure and uncertainty, not knowing if they would lose their jobs, or even get killed any time. But I didn't know why, and what made all those happen.

Only until I studied the history of the British empire two years ago, and read books on political history such as Dr Li Pang-kwong's work on governance of colonial Hong Kong based on closed official archives that have recently been opened to public access, Dr Lui Tai-lok's insightful review of social changes in Hong Kong, as well as Noam Chomsky's Occupy and David Harvey's A Brief History of Neoliberalism, did I come to realise how ignorant we were about our former coloniser. Too many of us simply follow the practices and procedures and take them for granted, without bothering to question why they are so and how they came by in the first place.

Mrs Thatcher's impact on Hong Kong was certainly more than the Sino-British Joint Declaration. For example, her paramount belief in the power of the free market, a reduced role of the government, privatisation and self-help, and thus the contempt of dependence on social welfare, has pretty much become the so-called "core values" of Hong Kong. While there are also social and historical factors that help explain why Hong Kong is so receptive to these notions, it may be fair to say that Mrs Thatcher's philosophy has reinforced some of our underlying beliefs and struck a chord with the people of Hong Kong.

Unfortunately, it seems backfiring now. And few of us are aware of how dear the price can be.

In any event, may you rest in peace, Baroness Thatcher. Thank you for all the good and bad. It is now time for us to learn the lesson and clear the mess on our own.